Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Yesterday, the intrepid trio (Daddy Cool, Queen Mother & yours truly) took advantage of the almost deserted roads surrounding KL and headed for Morib beach. Apparently, everyone & his uncle had the same idea and the tiny narrow road leading to Banting saw bumper to bumper traffic.
Well, oh ok, it shouldn't have been a surprise since it was the first day of Hari Raya and little kampung houses dot the countryside towards Morib. But still, it was a surprise considering that the previous day saw us zooming to KLCC in about 20 minutes flat from our home in Boondock Heights.
Anyway, one little crawl later, we bimbled past towns like Teluk Panglima Garang (Angry Admiral's Cove) and Kanchong Darat. Now if my life seriously depended on identifying the above towns on a map, well, let's just say, start ordering the flowers please. Oh come on, stop sniggering, like you knew that a place called Kanchong Darat existed? I think most of my generation and younger wouldn't know of little towns that are not exits from the North-South Highway. Its a shame really because the culture and heritage of places like these are diminishing.
I was quite interested in going to Morib because practically all of my growing up years, I have heard the story about "The Picnic" close to 2, 358,735 times. Apparently, according to the story, my dad was getting all doe-eyed with my mom at this picnic somewhere in 1971. And a couple of months later they were married. So, it was a trip down memory lane for them. Wasn't a very long trip though because the tide was out and there were tons of people wandering about. But it was interesting to finally catch a glimpse of the legendary Morib beach.
We couldn't find a decent place to eat and ended up in Port Klang thinking that we would have better luck there. But nooo...guess everyone was in some pakcik's house gobbling rendang so the cranky trio (hunger turns a lamb into a lion) finally found a little chinese stall and tucked in to some splendid noodles. Actually in all honesty, it could have been fried shoelaces and I would still have found it delicious because I was absolutely ravenous.
You know, when I am old, sagging and grey, these little excursions that my dad is so fond of will probably be one of the best memories of my life with them. And its quite possible that's how I have become so fond of road trips and travelling. For that, I will always be grateful to them because a life without travel is a book without pages.
Posted by Tala at 6:36 PM